


the creative process

by hatebeat



Series: Putting the gears in motion [15]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Drug Use, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 14:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatebeat/pseuds/hatebeat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orlando, Florida - 1993. Pickle shares his creative process with Nathan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the creative process

"Yeah, yeah, like that, keep playin' it like that."

"This?"

"Yeah, dude." 

Pickles let his guitar sing into harmony above Donny's rhythm, slouching down into the couch cushions until he could stick his feet up on the coffee table. Donny kept repeating the same few bars, giving him the freedom to soar, a feeling he hadn't felt in a while, like there was wind under his wings again to support him. He hadn't felt creative like this, not for so long. But all this shit with Nathan, things were really kicking off.

"That good for the solo, Nate?" Pickles asked, breaking off to match up with what Donny was playing, harmonizing a few steps up.

"That's, uhhh. Great," Nathan said from his spot on the floor, leaning back against the arm of the couch. "Except, uh... it is a song about your guts being eaten out of you, so..."

"Dude, that's the beauty of it, you know?" Pickles said, grinning fiercely. "Lure 'em in with the music, then smack 'em in the face with the lyrics. Totally brutal."

"Maybe if we tune down lower, it'll be heavy enough for 'im," Donny suggested, a smirk on his lips. 

"Yeah, that might work," Nathan agreed, looking thoughtful.

Laughter erupted from Pickles' lips. "Dude, he was joking!"

A few grumbles from Nathan later, however, found Pickles re-tuning his guitar to accommodate him.

"I need a break," Donny admitted, watching Pickles work. "My fingers ain't used to all this."

"That's 'cause you never practice anymore," Pickles chided.

"What can I say," Donny sighed dramatically, "the dream was yours, kid. Not mine."

Donny smiled at him and ruffled his hair, but it still kind of left a dent in Pickles' heart. That dream was supposed to be both of theirs. And maybe if Donny had been with him in LA, things wouldn't have ended as messily as they had with Snakes N' Barrels. 

Donny was unperturbed, however. 

"You kids wanna smoke a little?" he asked, reaching for his backpack. He didn't do any of the harder drugs anymore, not really. Not after being in jail. Not after seeing where those same drugs had landed Pickles. 

"You know it," Pickles said. Because weed was a totally different story- it was barely even a drug! Pickles grabbed his half-empty bottle from the coffee table, throwing it back until it was empty. "Nate, you ready for another?"

"Huh?" Nathan looked up from the notepad he was scribbling on, and Pickles held his empty bottle up as explanation. "Oh, yeah. I guess."

"'Kay, cool." Sometimes he thought that maybe he shouldn't be giving Nathan so much booze and shit, but he was a growing boy! It was good for him! Or, well, whatever. 

Pickles stepped over the coffee table and went into the kitchen, grabbing another round for the three of them from the fridge. When he got back to the couch, Donny was packing his pipe. Pickles set a beer down in front of him on the table and handed another to Nathan.

"That shit smells pretty good," Pickles said, worming his way back onto the couch. "Where'd you get it?"

"This stuff? It's actually mine," Donny said. "Been growing it with my roommate back home."

Pickles was quiet for a second, fiddling with his bottle cap. "You sellin' again?"

Donny shrugged, not missing a beat. "Yeah, it pays the bills. It's mostly Ben, but I'm helping out."

For a few minutes, the only sound was of Nathan's pen scratching at the paper. When Pickles glanced over the arm of the couch to see what he was writing, there were no words on the paper, just a drawing blacking out the few words that had actually been written there. He knew Nate had 'em in his head, though. Pickles wasn't concerned. 

"Here, kid."

Pickles looked up and Donny was holding the pipe and lighter out to him, and the smell of the smoke seeped into the air around him. Pickles put the pipe to his lips and lit it, inhaling deeply, letting his lungs fill up with it. He didn't exhale until he pressed the pipe back into Donny's hand. 

"Pretty good, huh?" Donny asked, lighting up for another hit.

"Not bad," Pickles wheezed, coughing slightly. He let himself up from the couch, climbing around both of them, and went to the bedroom, grabbing his inhaler from the top drawer of his dresser. When he got back to the couch, Donny had scooted over to his side of the couch, and was handing the pipe down to Nathan.

"Uh, I don't smoke," Nathan told him, looking at Donny with some sort of discomfort etched on his brow.

"You ever try it?" Donny asked, confused.

"No." Nathan paused. "It's bad for my voice."

Pickles slouched down, getting himself comfortable again, but he laughed at Nathan while doing so. "Dude, chill out! I was a singer, too, and I smoke all the time! Didn't fuck my voice up none."

Nathan looked conflicted, but Donny interjected. "Hey, don't pressure him. If he doesn't want to do it, not like he has to."

"C'mon, Nate- one hit ain't gonna kill you," Pickles urged, ignoring Donny. "Bein' all straight-edge ain't brutal, dude."

Nathan twisted his face into a scowl, then snatched the pipe from Donny's hand. And then held out his hand for the lighter. Pickles flopped on his stomach across Donny's lap, leaning down over the arm of the couch to watch Nathan put the pipe to his lips, confused as all hell.

"Dude, hold it in your other hand- you gotta put your thumb over the hole," Pickles instructed, holding back a laugh.

Nathan juggled the smoking utensils, taking the lighter in his right hand. "I have to light it? At the same time?"

"Yeah," Donny said, peering at him over Pickles' shoulders and hair.

Nathan frowned, fumbling with the lighter in his hand. "I don't think I can light it like this."

"Eh? Why not? You just push down on the thing, drag your finger over it, you know?"

"I know h- I 'm left-handed, you dickshit."

Pickles just stared at him for a second, but then he started to laugh, falling forward over the arm of the couch a little.

"Okay, dude, gimme it, hand it over." He grabbed the lighter out of Nathan's hand. "Lemme light for you, okay? Just suck that sweet shit in."

Nathan put the pipe to his lips, but then pulled it away just as quickly. "How do I, uh... you know, _do_... it?" he asked, clearly uncomfortable with his inexperience. 

"Just breathe it in, kiddo," Donny told him, encouraging. 

"Okay, okay, ready?" Pickles held out the lighter, waiting for Nathan to put the pipe to his mouth again, and once he did, he lit the bowl, and Nathan took a deep breath. And totally unsurprisingly, the kid dissolved into a coughing fit. 

" _Shut up_ ," Nathan growled through his cough as Pickles snickered at him. 

"You wanna try it again?" Pickles asked, waving the lighter at him. "Don't breathe so, uh, hard this time." 

Nathan grumbled, but he let Pickles light the bowl for him again, and Pickles watched in satisfaction as he took his second hit. 

"There, that ain't so bad, huh?" Pickles asked, smirking. 

Donny reached over him and ruffled Nathan's hair a little bit, making Nathan scowl a bit, but not pull away entirely, so Donny left his palm on Nathan's head. 

"I think I'm just drunk," Nathan said after a moment, but Pickles could already see it in his eyes. Kid didn't even push Donny's hand away. Nate liked that shit. 


End file.
